


make daddy proud

by wintercaps



Series: Born To Be Yours [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ageplay, Daddy Kink, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Kink Exploration, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Praise Kink, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 18:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercaps/pseuds/wintercaps
Summary: Stevie is the sweetest little boy in the world, and Bucky wants more than anything to be the best daddy.





	make daddy proud

**Author's Note:**

> my other series, sweet, is all about bucky's nonsexual age regression. this one, however, is more along the lines of ageplay, and is therefore sexual. please click away if that make you uncomfortable in any way!  
> ((edit: a really nice anon let me know that the way i worded this note before wasn’t the best! age regression and age play are two completely different things and i’ll make sure not to get them mixed up in the future!))

Despite all of the signs leading up to it, Bucky is still surprised the first time Steve calls him daddy. It was impossible for him not to take note of Steve going all soft and happy when Bucky would whispers _my sweet boy,_ the way Steve’s cheeks would pink up at Bucky giving him an order to follow, how his pretty mouth would form around the word as he reached for Bucky.

Still, despite all of that, Bucky hadn’t expected to hear that word — that _title,_ especially out of the bedroom. Definitely not when they were in the middle of watching a documentary on the exploration of space.

Steve had come back from the communal gym several floors down, already showered and changed, and crawled right into Bucky’s lap on the couch. It was a _big_ couch; more than capable of holding several people side-by-side. Steve knew that, of course. He just preferred snuggling up with his best guy, and Bucky definitely wasn’t complaining.

They both had their own ways with dealing with everything they’d gone through in their lives; both of them, so very touch and affection starved after years of knowing nothing more than the touch of a weapon or an enemy trying to kill them, had naturally found comfort in the warmth of each other’s arms.

Some mornings, Bucky wakes confused and disoriented and sometimes he speaks Russian or Portuguese or Farsi and sometimes he forgets how to be anything other than the Asset. Steve is always there, pulling him close, holding him like he _knows_ that the only thing keeping him in one piece is the feeling of Steve’s arms around him. Sometimes Steve wakes up screaming _Bucky_ , reaching for something he can’t grab hold of. They don’t talk about it, but they both know that it has to do with the day that Bucky fell into that ravine, screaming for Steve just as Steve now wakes screaming for him.

The gentle touch of the other always serves as a reminder; _I’m here, I’m alive, you’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe._

Steve presses his way into Bucky’s space on the sofa, looking so soft and cute in his favorite pale blue shirt and black boxer briefs; he’d dropped his sweats somewhere from the elevator to the living room. Steve is very rarely so _exposed_ — just as Bucky tends to keep a knife or a handgun somewhere on his person, Steve feels safest in his tactical gear, a gun in each hand, shield strapped to his back. Baring himself by wearing something so _soft_ does things to Bucky’s heart, as another reminder of just how much Steve loves and trust Bucky. Not that he ever doubts it; it’s just nice, sometimes, to have such a clear show of that trust.

Steve nuzzles into Bucky’s shirt, knees drawn up to his own chest. Bucky shifts to adjust him and pulls him closer, smiling at the pleased little sound Steve makes.

“Daddy.” Steve sighs, pressing into Bucky’s chest. “ _Daddy_.”

Bucky catches his breath for a moment, shocked. He lets his surprise drift out on his next exhale. “Hey, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, making him wriggle happily.

Steve raises his chin to look at Bucky, and he’s all wide-eyed and sweet and Bucky can’t resist swooping in for a kiss. Steve wriggles happily again in his arms, grinning when Bucky pulls back.

Steve’s cheeks dimple from his smile when he says, “Daddy.”

Bucky smiles back. “Baby boy.”

Pink spreads across Steve’s cheeks as he ducks his head and snuggles back into Bucky’s chest.

So, maybe Bucky hadn’t been expecting it — but it’s something he can work with. He can adjust to this situation and tweak it till it’s just how Steve wants.

They’d never used titles like that when they were younger, but Bucky taking care of Steve had always been a natural part of who they were. Steve used to get upset about it, sometimes; hated feeling small and weak and would lash out at Bucky for treating him like he was something that needed to be taken care of.

Whenever he would let himself fall into that space where Bucky cared for him, he would go all soft and doe-eyed and all of his sharp edges would melt away, leaving a sweet boy for Bucky to dote on. He has fond memories of carrying his boy around when he was especially little, petting golden hair away from his forehead, taking care of him whenever he would fall ill. Especially fond memories of fucking his boy, all soft sounds and half-formed whimpers of Bucky’s name, shivery and sweet in Bucky’s arms.

Part of Bucky’s adjustment to the world had included learning how to use the internet, and he’d fallen down the hole of BDSM and ageplay and the difference between ageplay and age regression and _littles_ and _caretakers_. It had been overwhelming, to suddenly have so many words for things they hadn’t understood before.

It was, in a way, like scenes from several weeks back, with the knife and the gun and the hand around Steve’s throat — scenes that neither of them would have had words for when they were younger, but Bucky had long since discovered through google. Safety precautions and safewords and aftercare had become a regular part of their life, especially within the bedroom — or wherever their sex life took them outside of said room.

They’re quiet for the rest of the documentary, with the exception of squirmy little Stevie occasionally whispering _daddy_ to himself.

Bucky squeezes him closer every time, sometimes whispers back _baby_ or _Stevie_ or _little boy_ and absolutely delights in the way Steve reacts. He wriggles and curls his toes and makes a quiet soft sound that’s almost a giggle.

The documentary finishes and Steve insists, “another!”

He looks up at Bucky with big hopeful eyes and Bucky laughs, even as he waves a hand for FRIDAY to bring up their Netflix list. Stevie points at the documentary on ocean life — one that Steve himself had chosen.

The documentary starts with soothing music overlayed with the sound of crashing waves, and Steve snuggles back into Bucky’s side.

Stevie gasps and wriggles and excitedly points at several of the animals, insisting, “ _Daddy!”_  without any further commentary. Bucky smiles and agrees, “I know.” every time, even when he doesn’t really know. It seems to be enough for Stevie, judging by the pleased little hum he gives each time.

Stevie is dozing off against Bucky’s chest around halfway through the film, as the narrator describes the lifecycle of a certain species of fish. One hand has a hold of Bucky’s shirt, the other curled up near his chin. Bucky’s heart just about melts when he sees the thumb tucked into Steve’s mouth.

Stevie mumbles a sleepy little, “daddy?” when Bucky shifts to lie down, bringing Steve with him. Steve makes a quiet sound around the thumb between his lips, blinking big tired eyes at Bucky, before he drops his head back to Bucky’s chest and dozes off again.

* * *

 

The shade curtains have lowered by the time Bucky wakes up, and FRIDAY has automatically dimmed the lights above them. Steve is still curled up on his chest, though the hand that had been tucked against his mouth is now hanging off the side of the couch.

Bucky yawns, apparently loud enough to wake Steve, whose face scrunches up as he blinks his bleary eyes open.

“Hey, baby.” Bucky’s voice grates against his throat and he grimaces, clearly in need of a drink.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve pulls himself up from Bucky’s chest. His hair is a mess, and he still looks very much half-asleep as he pushes off the couch and heads for the kitchen.

Bucky calls, “get me some water, would you?” and Steve replies with a grunt. Bucky smiles.

Steve had quite obviously fallen asleep feeling — _young_. Regardless of how he’d dozed off, he’d woken up feeling his regular self. Despite how much Steve screws up his nose and groans and complains when they have _talks_ , Bucky knows that it’s important. They _talk_ after all of their scenes; use of safewords and potential adjustments and things that were done right and things that could have been done better. Just because what had happened wasn’t sexual didn’t mean it wasn’t a scene — Steve had gone into a headspace other than his usual one, and Bucky wasn’t going to continue without knowing exactly what that headspace entailed.

Steve wanders his way back into their living room with a cup of water in each hand, and Bucky sits up as he takes one with a mumbled _thanks, sweetheart_.

Steve settles beside him, not quite curled up against his side as he’d been earlier, but close enough that their knees brush.

“So,” Bucky begins. He pauses to take a sip of water. Steve rubs the last of the sleep out of his eyes. “What exactly happened, Steve?”

Steve shrugs, yawning into his shoulder for a moment. “Dunno. Just — I was gettin’ changed after the gym and I suddenly wanted to cuddle with you. And that’s — y’know I always want to cuddle with you, but this was….I don’t know, Buck. Different. Felt like I needed to be in your arms to be safe and happy, and when you held me, it just felt right to call you that.”

“Daddy.” Bucky clarifies, watching the way Steve squirms at the word, cheeks already pinking up. “Okay, you wanted to call me daddy. There’s nothin’ wrong with that, Stevie. And then you got all….” he searches for the word, eventually deciding on, “Young.”

Steve nods, taking a sip of his water, and then another. Bucky raises an eyebrow when Steve averts his gaze and takes another slow sip. “Yeah. It was like — y’know when we were younger, ‘n you used to, uh. Take care of me? Like that, but. Stronger. More. I don’t really know…..”

“That’s okay, just explain it the best you can.” Bucky leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple and feels the tension drain out of his shoulders at the brief touch. In a way, he gets it; he understands, to the best of his abilities, what Steve is explaining.

“And—“ Steve continues, lifting his head. He shifts closer to Bucky. “I, uh.....there are times where I kinda feel that way. Usually when we’re together and you’re takin’ care of me. Makes me wanna hold you and call you daddy and.....sometimes it makes me feel real small, I guess. Safe. Protected.”

Bucky presses another kiss to Steve’s temple. “Thank you for telling me all of this, baby. Anything else?”

Steve hunches in on himself, muttering, “How’re you okay with this? It’s — weird, wantin’ to be treated like a kid. And fucked up, and — “

“We’re both consenting adults, Steve.” Bucky says firmly. “Whatever you want, I want it too. As long as it makes you happy and it doesn’t put you in danger.”

“How are you so perfect?” Steve sighs, nuzzling into Bucky’s shoulder. “There _is_ , uh, something else. I, um. That thing you said about me acting like a kid. I sorta do feel like a kid during those times, sometimes. Sometimes I feel real young we’re, y’know, watching a movie, and I just wanna stay there forever and do kid things. And then sometimes when we’re, _y’know_ , I feel like you’re my daddy and you’ll take care of me, and I can trust you to make me feel good.”

“Of course I will, baby.” Bucky finishes his drink and places it on the coffee table next to Steve’s own empty glass, pulling Steve closer into his lap. His boy is already pliant and soft in his arms. “Daddy’s always gonna take care of his little boy.”

Steve smiles shyly, soft little dimple forming in his cheek. Bucky presses a kiss there and feels Steve’s smile widening against the point of contact.

“So proud of you for tellin’ me all of that, baby.” Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s chin.

“Bucky—“ Steve sighs, pressing closer.

“Such a _good boy_ for your daddy.” Bucky smiles at the sudden jerk of Steve’s hips. Stevie shakes his head dazedly, mumbling _Daddy_.

A soft sound falls from Stevie’s lips as he tucks his head into Bucky’s neck, shyly rocking his hips against Bucky’s own. The grip Bucky has on Stevie’s hips tightens for a moment.

“Baby.” Bucky’s voice is soft, practically cooing the word. “Sweet boy. Little angel, huh? Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Stevie shudders, pressing his hips harder against Bucky’s. Bucky encourages him, using the grip on his hips to set a slow, rhythmic pace that leaves Stevie gasping and shaking and whining _daddy_ in the prettiest little voice Bucky’s ever heard.

Bucky presses his groan into Stevie’s soft hair. “ _Fuck_ , baby, what a sweet little boy — so fucking pretty, so well-behaved, love you so much.”

“ _Daddy_.” Stevie gasps, voice watery. “Oh — oh, _daddy_ , that’s —“

“Daddy loves you, baby. You know that? Your daddy loves you so much, Stevie.” Bucky delights in the blissed out look on his little Stevie’s face, pretty pink mouth open and eyes lidded. His cheeks are flushed the sweetest shade of pink.

“Da — Daddy.” Stevie whispers, shivering. He’s clearly young, quickly going nonverbal the further he slips, still so desperate for his daddy’s attention.

Stevie presses a choked off sob into Bucky’s shoulder, hips stuttering and grinding in the grip Bucky still has on his hips. Bucky lets him work himself through the motions, cooing in his ear the entire time.

“Aw, you gettin’ all hot from your daddy takin’ care of you? Daddy makin’ you feel good, little boy? You come whenever you need to, you’ve been such a good boy, Stevie.”

When he comes, Stevie all but wails _Daddy._ He goes boneless in Bucky’s grip a few moments later, shivery and gasping. Bucky muffles his moan into Stevie’s shoulder, the thought of being the one to make his sweet boy come tripping circuits in his brain.

He whines, high and anxious, when Bucky shifts.

“No, no, it’s okay, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” Bucky soothes, wrapping Stevie up in his arms as close as he can. “Daddy’s stayin’ right here with you, babydoll.”

Stevie wriggles as though he could possibly get closer, already pressed in head to toe as tight as he can get, desperate for contact.

Stevie is still little and mostly nonverbal when Bucky hitches him against his hip and carries him to the bathroom. Gentle fists are curled into his shirt, Stevie mouthing sleepily at the fabric near his shoulder.

The broken little whine Stevie gives when Bucky sets him down on the counter breaks his heart. “Oh baby, I know, but we’ve gotta change you, can’t be comfortable all sticky like that.”

Stevie screws up his nose and squirms, apparently just realising that he’s uncomfortable. “Daddy, sticky.”

“Sticky.” Bucky agrees, tugging Stevie’s hips forward on the counter till he can pull at his boxer briefs. Stevie whines and wiggles at the feeling, pouting. Stevie’s cotton shirt falls just past mid thigh, keeping him covered. Something about his Stevie being so vulnerable and bare while Bucky cleans him up just feels wrong.

Stevie whines, “ _Daddy_.” at the uncomfortable feeling of Bucky wiping over his thighs.

“I know, baby.” Bucky soothes. “Feels gross, huh? I’m sorry, doll, gotta get you all clean, though.”

Stevie nods, sniffling and teary-eyed. He all but falls into Bucky’s arms when his shirt is tugged back down, mumbling a half-formed _Daddy_.

“Such a good boy.” His words are whispered into Steve’s hair, softer than silk. “I’m proud of you for sittin’ still so well.”

Bucky stays as close as he can to Stevie as he strips out of his own pants, kicking them off to the side. He’s a lot quicker about wiping away the mess on himself than he was with Stevie.

Stevie wriggles closer, making a sleepy little noise as Bucky lifts him onto his hip again. Back when Stevie was smaller, he would insist on being carried constantly, wide eyed and arms outstretched, and Bucky was never able to say no. Carrying his sweet boy around their apartment, sometimes just to rock him to sleep, is a memory that he’ll always cherish.

Stevie snuffles, rubbing his face into the soft cotton. “Mm, sleepy, Daddy.”

“You tired, baby?” Bucky rubs a hand down Steve’s back. Realistically, Steve is bigger than Bucky; broad shouldered and a half head taller than Bucky himself. Stevie, though — Stevie is curled up all small and sleepy in his daddy’s arms, just a little boy, warm and soft under Bucky’s touch.

The thought of someone so young and needy trusting him to take care of them spreads an old feeling of warmth through his chest. Taking care of Stevie back in the day had always been one of the most important parts of his daily life, when they struggled to make ends meet. Knowing that he could come home and provide for a boy who needed to be taken care of kept him grounded. Even if it was Steve and not Stevie, having his sweetheart to cherish sometimes felt like it was the only thing that would keep him sane.

Stevie tugs on Bucky’s shirt, insisting, “Daddy, ‘m sleepy.”

“Yeah, doll, I know. Takin’ you to bed now.” Bucky holds him closer, heading off down the hall for their room.

Stevie nuzzles into Bucky’s shoulder with a yawn. “Mmkay.”

He squirms when Bucky helps him into another pair of boxers, pouting up a storm as Bucky moves away to change into a pair himself. Stevie settles a few moments later, all curled up in the blankets. The sight of Stevie snuggling into their bed melts Bucky’s heart. Bucky tucks him in, brushing soft curls away from his forehead. Steve had been growing out his hair, and it makes his boy look extra soft and cute.

“No.” Stevie huffs when Bucky pulls away. A sleepy eye squints open at him, and Stevie holds a grabby hand out. “Daddy, _no_.”  
“Want me to stay?” Bucky guesses. Stevie nods, mumbling another _daddy_. Bucky takes the outstretched hand, crawling into bed beside his boy. He’d planned on getting dinner started, so it could be ready for when Stevie woke up, but Bucky has had enough experiences with a grumpy, sleepy Stevie to know that if he left when Stevie wanted him to stay, it would wind up with Stevie wailing himself to sleep or Bucky returning to cuddle with him anyways. It was easier for both of them to just settle into bed and delay dinner for an extra hour or so.

Bucky doesn’t sleep, even when Stevie drifts off against his chest; he just pulls out his StarkPad and starts reading up on being a caregiver. He likes to think that he’d done a decent job, but with a world of knowledge available at his fingertips, he wasn’t going to pass up on any of it. Stevie is the sweetest little boy in the world, and Bucky wants nothing more than to be the best daddy.

**Author's Note:**

> :D


End file.
